I remember it well too!!!

Thirthy years ago I was sitting in this bar in Hong Kong, a gorgeous Belgian brunette on my left leg, an Ozzie redhead on the other. Then HQ called me on my cellphone. They had an urgent mission. I ordered the girls to get dressed, finished my Martini, left Lee the croupier a $1500 tip and proceeded to my Aston Martin waiting outside.

I rushed to my 51st floor loft, and called Alejandra, my agent in Spain. She was working on this Dutch reporter, ambitious but a bit slow. Just what we needed. We had to work on him to promote our case, unwittingly. 'Look, A', I said, 'I don't care if that massively tall guiri is wearing purple trousers and hasn't shaved for a week. That's what all those Dutchies do. You shall have to kiss him as if he's a fine Gouda. Because we need him to write favourably about the Cause, we need to win over the socialist side for our patron!'
'B...but Louis, my master, can't you send any of the other girls? Can't we bribe him?', she stammered. 'No, Alejandra', I insisted, 'we must act now. We have only a limited window of opportunity, our man in Salford can distract his co-workers only for so long until they wise up and discover he's brought the power down while posing as an electrician from maintance. Hurry now, the wedding will be over soon, the eyes of the world won't be distracted forever....'